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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137410">Grovel and Obey</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenseven/pseuds/sirenseven'>sirenseven</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Community: dckinkmeme, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mind Control, Office Sex, Sibling Incest, Slut Shaming, Spanking, but the specific age is not mentioned, which is also not really mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:41:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,698</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenseven/pseuds/sirenseven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For the dc kink meme:</p><p>
  <i>Damian uses some Mad Hatter tech (or something similiar) to force Tim to submit to him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I'm picturing something a few years on, when they're both working at the top of W.E. and jostling for control. Tim's better with people and tends to come out on top in the boardroom, but when they're alone Damian says the activation phrase and takes out his frustrations on the now willing and submissive Tim.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>(And afterwards, Tim remembers nothing, implying that this has been going on for a long time)</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake/Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>285</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Grovel and Obey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Damian, calm down,” Drake sighs, following him as he storms into his office.</p><p>“Calm <i>down</i>?” Damian whirls on him as the door drops shut behind Drake with a thud. “You are intentionally undercutting me!”</p><p>Drake rubs the bridge of his nose.</p><p>The gesture only infuriates Damian more. When they first met, Damian a mere child, Drake watched with mindful wariness ever since he nearly met his death at Damian's hands. Now, however, years later and far older, Drake seems only more prone to treat him like an unruly child.</p><p>“I'm not intentionally undercutting you,” he explains, in a gallingly patient tone. “The board has worked with me longer than they've worked with you, and I've earned their trust. They didn't respect me when I'd just started either.”</p><p>“I'm not you,” Damian sneers.</p><p>Drake gives him a tired look. He only occasionally bothers to argue with Damian anymore. Damian used to relish the lack of debate, before he realized it's only because Drake considers the bickering unworthy of his time when Damian is incensed.</p><p>Now, he almost misses the arguments, for how much more satisfying they made it to put Drake in his place.</p><p>“Alright,” says Drake, “cool off. The budget isn't approved yet, so we can talk again later if you have genuine concerns. Otherwise, I have to get back to—”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Drake pauses, half turned to the door. His eyebrows raise. “Was there something else?”</p><p>“Be silent.”</p><p>Damian basks in the surprised and offended look on Drake's face. It's been too long.</p><p>“Damian. I get that you're—”</p><p>“<i>Glavel na utii</i>,” says Damian. He'd agonized over the phrase once upon a time, before realizing it was unimportant so long as no one but him was likely to say it. Swahili is rarely heard around here.</p><p>Drake drops to his knees.</p><p>Damian moves back to his desk, to activate the privacy windows and door locks. His assistant would know better than to say anything if she looked up at the wrong moment, but he can't risk any passers-by.</p><p>Lounging into his chair, Damian regards his toy. Drake's eyes have glazed over, mouth parted where he kneels.</p><p>“You've disappointed me,” Damian says, just to watching him grovel.</p><p>Drake doesn't let him down, dropping his head to the floor without lowering his rear. “I'm sorry, sir.”</p><p>Damian kicks a foot out.</p><p>“Come here.”</p><p>Drake crawls the whole way, eyes lowered submissively. A moment ago he thought he had the right to regard Damian with disdain. Now his tie dangles from its clip, aware of his place. <i>Beneath</i>.</p><p>He stops at Damian's knee, sitting back on his heels. He's even learned to keep his gaze lowered.</p><p>“Would you like to make it up to me?” Damian asks.</p><p>“Please,” Tim moans, already sounding like a whore. “Please let me make it up to you, sir.”</p><p>Damian doesn't care that the entire persona is forced. If anything, the idea that it is fully customized just for him, the image of Drake's revulsion if he ever discovered it, make it even better.</p><p>“Alright,” he allows, like it's a generosity. “Take off your jacket, and you may use your mouth.”</p><p>The suit jacket falls to the floor, and Drake leans in to undo Damian's belt.</p><p>“<i>Only</i> your mouth,” he says.</p><p>Drake's hands drop immediately. He crosses the wrists behind his back, leaning further to bite at Damian's belt. The counterbalance forces his ass out temptingly.</p><p>It's hardly an easy task, to open pants without the use of hands, but Damian enjoys watching him struggle.</p><p>“This is where you belong,” he says, as Drake finally gets a good enough grip to unbuckle his belt. “On your knees, like a whore. Pleasing your betters.”</p><p>Drake whimpers his agreement, pulling the belt aside.</p><p>“Your mouth is far better suited for cock-sucking than speaking.”</p><p>Drake nods frantically, attacking his zipper.</p><p>“There you are,” Damian adds once he has it. “I like you when you know your place. You've always been a useless whore; you just needed someone to show you.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Drake murmurs into his clothed crotch, “for teaching me.”</p><p>The true Drake, under his own control, would surely balk at the words. Damian smiles for the thought.</p><p>“You're welcome, pet.”</p><p>Drake hums in delight, before carefully pulling Damian's briefs down with his teeth to reveal his cock. His expression is one of rapturous bliss and he lunges on it instantly, sucking the head like he might die without it.</p><p>Damian thrusts languorously into his mouth, enjoying the suction. He watches Drake's ass sway. Intended or not, noticed or not, the elder man's rapport with the board members had completely eclipsed Damian at the meeting.</p><p>“Finger yourself,” Damian says. “I'm going to fuck you.”</p><p>Drake's moan is loud enough to make him thankful for the soundproofing.</p><p>He deepens his thrusts as the man obeys, ensuring he hits Drake's throat each time to hear that hint of choking. Drake never did get the hang of deepthroating, though he compensates in enthusiasm.</p><p>Under Damian's instruction, Drake's pants are pushed to his knees, two fingers thrusting into himself with zeal.</p><p>“It was humiliating,” Damian confesses, hitting harder against Drake's throat to remunerate the emotional sting, “watching them disregard me, but kowtow to a whore like you.”</p><p>Drake sucks harder as if in apology, licking every inch he can reach.</p><p>“Get up,” says Damian, kicking him off. “Over the desk.”</p><p>Drake stumbles to his feet, hobbled by the pants that slip from knees to ankles, and drops himself over the desk just as Damian pushes the most important documents aside. There might be a pen left under there, but Drake deserves the discomfort.</p><p>His fingers are still plugged into his hole. Damian never told him to stop.</p><p>“If only you were this obedient all the time,” he muses, and brings a hand down hard on Drake's ass.</p><p>Drake moans and wriggles for that too, sticking his ass up higher. He'll love anything Damian gives him. Unless Damian tells him not to, and then he'll cry and whine instead.</p><p>Those fingers keep pumping.</p><p>Damian sets to a speedy and rough spanking, with no pauses between strikes for mercy. Drake's ass jiggles under Damian's smacks, sometimes hitting his wrist, but he never stops fingering himself. The cheeks turn pink then red, holding the shape of hand prints, as Drake transitions from loud moans to a continuous whimper.</p><p>“You like this,” Damian accuses, though it was never in question.</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” Drake babbles. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”</p><p>Damian gives a final, extra hard slap. Drake's ass practically glows. He'll ache to sit for days, unable to recall why.</p><p>“Would you like me to fuck you now?”</p><p>“Yes! Please, yes, please, sir. Please, please, sir.”</p><p>“Please, what?” Damian asks, pulling Drake's fingers out and tossing his hand forward.</p><p>“Please fuck me, sir. Fuck me, please.”</p><p>“Whore,” Damian says, almost affectionate, lightly smacking the side of his thigh. “Here you are.”</p><p>He presses into Drake in one easy stroke, filling him up as he nods and squirms. Damian doesn't hesitate to start a punishing rhythm, giving Drake no time to adjust nor any sympathy for his bruised backside. Not that he'd want it. Not unless Damian told him to.</p><p>“I should do this more often,” he says, sweating with his strokes. He adjusts for a better grip around Drake's thighs, to strike deeper. “I should have you suck me under the table during the next board meeting, so everyone else knows your place too.”</p><p>“Yes, yes, yes,” Drake cries, for the words or the thrusts it's hard to say.</p><p>“Perhaps I'll have you pleasure them too,” Damian suggests. “See how many lecherous business men can fuck you before you lose the ability to speak.”</p><p>“Please,” Drake moans. “Anything.”</p><p>“Anything?” Damian pounds in. It really has been too long; he can already feel himself getting close. “You'd splay yourself naked in the lobby, if I asked, for anyone to fuck. Whore.”</p><p>“Yes!”</p><p>“No,” Damian growls, smacking his ass again. Drake moans in delight. “You're my whore and mine alone.”</p><p>“Yours,” Drake agrees just as easily. “Only yours.”</p><p>He'd repeat anything in this state.</p><p>“Good whore,” Damian says anyway.</p><p>When he's about to reach his peak, he adds, “You can come now.”</p><p>Drake does, screaming and writhing with it. The clench of his inner walls around Damian sends him over the edge too, hips stuttering and groans rising.</p><p>Damian grunts for a moment, slumping over Drake, before he leans back and flops into his chair.</p><p>“Wipe this up,” he pants, waving vaguely to his groin.</p><p>Drake can't be any less wrung out than he is, but he drops to his knees before Damian can blink, licking up the mess. The stimulation is tantalizing just after his climax, but Drake knows better than to push it into too much. When he sits back on his heels again, Damian looks down to find himself all cleaned up.</p><p>“Good,” he murmurs, anger abating and energy returning after his release. “Go clean yourself up as well.”</p><p>Drake crawls away, pants still trailing on his ankles and bare ass wiggling, and disappears into the attached executive bathroom. Damian tucks himself back into his pants, smoothing his apparel and hair. When Drake emerges a few minutes later, Damian is content his own presentation is professional once more. Drake, of course, has followed orders for his own appearance perfectly.</p><p>On approach, he goes to kneel once more, but Damian catches his chin.</p><p>“You make a very good whore, Drake.”</p><p>“Thank you, sir.” Drake beams.</p><p>Damian releases, and nudges him a few steps back. “Put on your jacket and stand over there.”</p><p>As Drake obeys and moves to the far side of the desk, he flips the office's privacy controls off and rearranges his desk. Everything just like he left it.</p><p>“<i>Kuamka</i>.”</p><p>Drake blinks, brow furrowing as his eyes refocus. Damian contents himself with sidelong glances, pretending to read the documents on his desk.</p><p>When he feels Drake's gaze on him, he looks up, eyebrows raising.</p><p>“Weren't you leaving?”</p><p>“Right,” says Drake. “I...Right. We'll talk about the budget later, I guess.”</p><p>Damian allows himself a small smile as Drake leaves.</p><p>“I'm sure we will.”</p>
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